


Niña

by stardustpink



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26421580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustpink/pseuds/stardustpink
Summary: We've seen how Hector is, especially with children. Getting sucked in, too nice for his own good.Most likely taken in a missing kid now and then over the course of being dead.What happens when he comes across an orphan child in the LOTD?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a collection of shorts and stories between Hector and the girl featured, Hetty Victor. Probabaly wont always be in order, perhaps it might even be diffrent au's. You may remember, if youve read Clouded Memories, her appearing in the second chapter also? So stuff like that may occur also.

Entertainment didn't always have to cost the earth. The best pleasures in life could often be the simplest. Mango  district was where you went for such things. Artists, unusual fashion, buskers, jugglers. It was where the more colourful hung out and worked.

Stalls held painted knick knacks, bolts of fabric, semi precious jewelry. Vendors selling churros, their sweet heavy sugary scent wafting for miles, coaxing hungry tummies along. In the street itself were people playing penny whistles, juggling clubs back and forth with their partners, and of course? Dancing!

There was a huge crowd gathered around one source, so thick that it was difficult to see what was the big attraction at first.

There’s a rather sharp clatter of heels on stone, footsteps almost more like stomps as he takes another turn down a side path of the district. Somewhat wary of the main road and running up against certain company once more-- only here to take the shorter route down into the more ramshackle districts and towards the lower water and spanned pyramids where the Shantytown is--

And it’s almost too bright and cheerful here with music and people calling for wares, some of which he almost stops to look at-- but with naught a peso he can’t spare the time. And he was expected back already. Down another alley and almost into a crowd gathered around yet another dancer.

One could see the draw. It was a pretty little thing, a small girl. She couldn't have been more than 13, long black haired tied up in two pigtails, held with pink ribbons. A patchy white and pink dress, with obvious stitches where it had been repaired. Dancing in one spot with energy and vigour, the skill of a gypsy in a fairy tale. 

It’s almost a pity that he doesn’t have his guitar as he for a moment just stops to watch. Seeing the girl spin and dance, leap about with the freedom and abandonment of a child spirit, yet without any music to guide her-- and yet the other part of him twitches in echoes of pain at the mere thought of playing of who--

He takes a breath and keeps walking, half an eye glancing back. Remembering, thinking about a time long before, kids in la plaza skirts and dresses.

Her skirts and hair twirled prettily as she danced, like flower petals dancing on a breeze, before she finally came to a stop. The little rag she had been using for people to toss coins into heavy with “gold” now, able to scoop it up easily as a makeshift bag without spilling a single peso.

The crowd started to part and move on as the girl stopped, but, two much older, and not very friendly looking skeletons, made their way over to her.

“Hey, you skinny little brat!”

His head snaps around, almost panic flashing in his eyes. Before he realizes he’s not the one called to and-- Oh no. He stops, hands curling phalanges pressing into his carpals as he realizes. Watches as the two men half box the girl in, towering over her and--

There’s the alley he came from, a clothesline and he thinks he knows the back way around-- scrambling to not end up pushed against a wall and potentially with another broken bone or 

.

And to not let them box her in for who knows what harassment. 

“Who toldju you could dance here? You’re on our turf.”

Despite the way they towered over her, trying to be intimidating, she didn't even tremble. Just stood there with her bag of coins, hand on one hip.

“REAAALLY? That's funny cuz I didn't see any sign that said “Zoo!”

“¡A poco!” the second guy’s face darkens, a glower over his skull, teeth glinting in the low light as they both work to try and push, walk her back in towards the alley. The rest of the crowd already scattered like a hoard of rabbits back to their burrow. Leaving the situation to unfold as it would. “Well it’s still 

district niñita!”

“So we suggest you get lost, if you know what's good for you!”

“Gee, where’d you dig up that line, a knockoff gangster movie?”Although she should probably know better, she was not backing down. Sticking her tongue out with a dead eyed expression, she replied.”How bout YOU get lost, your stinking up the place with your cheap colonia. Noxious fumes are chemical warfare you know.”

That was it, what broke their patience and one of them moves forwards so fast it was as if you hardly blinked before he’s trying to yank her up, snarling into her face and harshly shaking her so that her bones rattled and clattered together.

“What did you say, hija de una puta?”

A slim leg kicked up in the air, managing to catch one by the chin, but the other grabbed her from behind while cursing. “Pequeña mocosa!” Her off the ground between them as they attempted to grab her and rough her up, but she didn't make it easier. She struggled and kicked, bit hard into a bony hand when it came into reach.

But let go as she felt a shadow coming over her. Looking upwards in surprise.

“What the-?”

The men are too focused to properly notice, or register the shadow before it’s draping over them. Confused shouts and calls come from under the material as the men immediately struggle. Attempting to fight an enemy that isn’t really there and only getting their bones caught, tugging and twisting, twining themselves up in the sheet that’s dropped down.

And over head, still half clinging, almost upside down to the clothesline is her ‘savior’. Staring down with wide eyes at the now cursing writhing mass of sheet before glancing her way. 

Lucky for the small one her attackers were too busy killing each other to notice her. A smaller lump managed to wriggle its way out from under the sheets and out onto the street, staring up at the one who had helped her.

Why had he…? Most wouldn't bother. 

The two just looked at each other for a bit, her from the ground, him from his height…

Until a voice disrupted this moment.

“HEY!!” The man’s fingers jolt, almost sending him toppling, head snapping around, mouth opening and closing. “Are you LOCO what do you think you’re doing that’s my fresh washing-!!” He springs up-- not waiting for the owner of the voice to show, taking the quickest route down.

Only pausing for a moment to not step on the still shouting and cursing mass of sheet. And skating almost around the corner, before stopping and looking back to the niña. Waving with one hand, motioning to keep moving.

Eventually they’d find their way out.

She didn't need to be told twice, acting on instinct she ran. Quickly and nimble down, over a small stone wall decorating steps leading down an alleyway. Quickly disappearing amongst the more shadowy lit path

“Espera! Niña!” He circles around, taking a different route, vanishing between one alley and the next. Pressing worriedly after her.

Sliding around, and up and finding his way to the nearby bridge and overlook. Before huffing. With a sigh he takes off his hat and brushes a hand through his hair. Seems that she’s gone-- He shakes his head and smacks it back on before pausing, tilting his head--

“Niña?” or-- his ribcage twists and he looks around the overpass for a quick hiding spot-- just in case. 

Light quick footsteps were the only sound to be heard through the otherwise empty streets of this part of town. Just a few dim lights, but it offered great cover for when you were running away. 

Ending up near the overpass, the two different routes leading to the same spot. Being opposite sides of the surrounding building.

Oh thank 

. It’s just the girl after all. And he slows down, just slightly. Letting her get ahead of him, before barely coming out into one of the few flickering and dim lights. Standing and taking a momentary breath, prickles up his spine wary.

Her heart jumped in her ribcage and she turned quickly to take another path, simply wanting to be left alone.

“Parar! Por favor! Niña!” he calls, but doesn’t dare to chase, to follow. At this point that will only make it harder. He leaves her with the choice whether to give him the time of the-- day. Shivering faintly even though there’s no breeze, he peers over his shoulder.

Just wary for a moment. This isn’t-- the nicest part of the Land of the Dead and he feels like he’s just waiting to make too much noise and--

“Are you-- alright?”

What he got as a reply was a rather rude raspberry, tongue stuck out n all.

“I didn't ask for your help you know! I could have handled myself!”

Oh well there was gratitude for you!

“Oi! That didn’t look like handling yourself!” his voice is slightly exaggerated as a whine. Almost as if to jest and play, before he shakes her head. “...where’s your family? Are they close?”

Her head was turned away, hands wrapped across her chest so they were laying on each arm, the bag of earnings still hanging from one, and unusually quiet.

“Don't have any…”

Which was partly why she had been dancing, because there was no one else to look after her. She has to earn to take care of herself.

“Oh…” he falls silent for a moment. The only sound being an eerie wail in the wind, and whistling through his bones. What else is there to say-- and yet--

He looks down, the bare phalanges of his feet mock him, exposed tarsals and metatarsals stark against the dirt and the grim. If he closed his eyes he could almost hear the creaking of old wood, the lap of water against stone and calling of--

Awkwardly he picks at his hands. Dipping fingers into the gaps of his carpals and weighing up the statement. No that would sound creepy-- but was there any way that it--

“Wh-which orphanage?” he swallows, okay, that’s a safe one. Now, which ones were there around close to here, not the Shantytown orphanage that’s for sure. “...The Marrones? Or the one up near Marigold Station?” 

The girl pulled a face, her eyes looking to the side.

“Uhhhh… I uh…” she felt kinda caught in the headlights here. 

“Come on throw me a bone kid” Héctor awkwardly shuffles, almost dancing, and evaluating her again. Reshuffling what he knew, maybe not one of the Marrone Orphans… clothing was a bit more worn than he remembered seeing from that hoard of kids-- and missing an alebrije. He hasn’t been jumped by one yet in any case--

Doesn’t rule out the one by the station though. 

“....I...Actually ran away. You know, when I died…?”She admitted hesitantly. Despite being something of a skilled liar, nothing came to her. Her mind was completely blank, so, the truth more or less tumbled out from her mouth.”So, heh, no stable address.”

For the past year or so since she died she had slept rough. Already used to having to be sharp and quick on her feet when she was alive, she had managed. Somehow she had managed.

“Qué? And-- and you never ended up picked up by--” He bites his lip, pulling himself back, well of course not. It’s not like people come 

But it is still a shock. “Never ran into Señor Villain? Official Anxious? Mamá Theresa?” 

“!!How did you know her-?!”

“She runs the Shantytown orphanage… was one of the caretakers when I was a niño. Don’t climb the Gutierez’s fence and steal apples, Héctor! Don’t go swimming in the river when you have chores Héctor! Leave the mariachi alone! Don’t steal other people’s guitars...” he coughs. “You know, caretaking...”

Although her eyes had become pinpointed from shock, she carefully thought about it… And gave a sigh of relief, relaxing against the nearest lamppost like she had turned to jelly.

“Oh she cant be then...I thought you meant sister Chaplin.” Shooting a small look over her shoulder at him. ”No mi asustes como ese hombre! That took a year off my life!” If she were still alive of course.

“Quién?” the revealed Héctor blinks, absolutely bewildered. 

“Charlie Chaplin?... Funny little foreigner, bowler hat, square moustache?...” Still nothing, Hector just staying at her blankly as if she was talking alien.”Ohhh times like this I REALLY wish I had a smartphone…”She sighed overdramatically and buried her face in her elbows, playfully thumping a fist against the ground.”A teenager without a phone, the shame of it all!”

“...you do know those are attached to walls right?” And not exactly 

he doesn’t think. It’s not like they can automatically call people. Or help him out ever, despite that one attempt, supposedly to get into contact with the living, you could call up over the phones. He never could get it to work. “Anyway-- so you have… nowhere?” 

“Ay I got places.”She said, but it was in a friendlier tone that before. “I got places to go, don't worry hombre. Take a load of, need a cervisa?””

Getting up off the rather dirty ground, dusting off her dress for the sake of acting.”There’s a bunch of us, always manage to find somewhere. ”Sadly this was true, the land of the dead was not too different from the living. Missing children no one really cared about, squatting, working, even stealing sometimes. There was an abundance of them in the land of the dead. ”Right now there's this old warehouse. It's warm at night, and there's a lot of cool graffiti inside! You should see it.”

“A warehouse…” Héctor’s browline furrows, and even saying that verbally bothers him. Sending a slight twitch through his body, fingers jerking. That’s-- that really isn’t safe, and no place for a child. Or many children-- he’d have to send an officer around or something later-- maybe or--

“N-no gracias on the Cervisa…” 

“...Well I better get going.”Nodding as she shifted her pink shawl closer, it was getting late and they… MIGHT, wonder where she went. They didn't really answer to each other, more just ran into each other from time to time, no tie downs, no real family.

“Cya señor.”

“Espera!” he stops, holding one hand almost awkwardly, before taking a deep breath. And looking out across the dark pathways and cobblestones, out towards where the steps go down. “M-maybe I could…” he trails off, and bites his lips, pressing teeth down and thinking. “Would you-- like to see Shantytown?” 

That piqued her interest slightly, looking back. “What's that??”

“It’s--” home to the nearly forgotten. He pauses, not sure how to describe, so he just offers an awkward shrug and a tentatively held out hand. “Well, why don’t you come see it?”

The small girl paused, looking unsure… But not scared of him anyway. 

Should she go with him?... Well… Not everyone she had met was out to trick her or wanting something. And that included adults. Plus, after the day she had. She was tired and frustrated, and while wanting to sleep, didn't want to walk the great distance home.

“Is it far…?”she asked, reaching her smaller hand out to take his.

“No-- Just down that way!” and honestly they can take the even quicker way down if she didn’t mind reassembling herself-- but-- he gives her a small glance, probably not something he should be promoting, unless he wants more lectures.

“Just this way, Señorita!” 

She actually gave a little snort of a laugh at that. Senorita. It made her cheek markings glow faintly.

“Sooo-- I’m… Héctor--” he says awkwardly, after a couple of steps. “What about you? As what should I address you Señorita?”

“...Hetty. My names, Hetty…”

“That’s a nice name!” He pauses for a moment, the edge of the final stairs down. “And it’s been nice to meet you Señorita!” And now-- it’s just down that they have to go. 


	2. Best in Show

“A-are you sure you want to see what I do?” There’s a tight thrumming in his ribcage, and he’s almost certain that’s the third or fourth time he’s asked the question, fighting the urge to wring his hands together or turn around. “Ariel did offer to take you to her art class” although knowing her-- he swallowed. “Or-- or-- you could have spent the day with Ignacia, or Isabel--”

Dios-- his mouth feels dry and his jaw tight, that twisting ache in his ribcage sending a shiver down his spine that becomes a cold iceblock in his hands. Especially as they get further into the arts district, with all the streamers and colour, the warehouses standing out for practice, other musicians, painters and artists going about--

And their destination just ahead.

“Are you sure?” he’s sure he sounds like a broken record. 

“How do we turn your repeat off?” Hetty asked, before giving him a few pokes to the side of the rib while making bee bop noises. It made Hector jump then try to swat her away, only for her to skip aside instead giggling, continuing their trek.

“Unless it's washing dishes or lifting stuff, you're always so secretive about your jobs.”Pumping a fist in determination. “Today, the mystery is resolved!!”

“Some great mystery” Héctor rolls his eyes, trying to push down the mounting creeping coil that wishes to send him running. Run, run, and then hide for the rest of the day-- because he doesn’t want to see what the reaction will be when-- It feels like all too quickly they’re at the warehouse, and while he almost wants to playfully show Hetty his ‘secret Héctor exclusive’ entrance--

He instead knocks on the front door, and tugs at his phalanges waiting. Watching them come apart go back together, and almost hoping that it’s _not answered._

Hoping didn't get you far.

Footsteps could be heard descending stairs frantically, before the door swung open.

“Ay diablo, where have you BEEN?!” Demanded a tired looking woman, who could really use a cup of coffee… Or, maybe shouldn't have any more, it was hard to tell.

A skeletal lady with curled brown hair, spectacles and a tape measure hung around her shoulders almost like decoration.

“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago Hector, I was beginning to think you got lost! Or kidnapped! Or if you were just goofing in which case you’ll WISH you were kidna-”

For a moment, Héctor just _winces_. All his stalling-- beyond that wince, he just stays quiet, no excuses this time, no platitudes, nothing, just a queasy rising feeling in his cervical vertebrae, and an awkward forced swallow to try and push that down.

Eyes darting to Hetty, to his hands. Anywhere but meeting Ceci’s justified frustration. He feels like he’ll shake himself apart-- not scared of her anger-- it’s just--

Ceci continued her rant, all along with gestures, completely caught up in her stress, and not noticing much else. 

“Honestly If I weren't already dead you would be the death of me niño! I have so many suits and dresses to fix as is, I needed you-”

She paused halfway through her rant, as she realised Héctor was not alone.

There was a small one behind him, just smiling and waving a hand.

Doing a double take, she lifted her glasses slightly, as if what she were seeing was an illusion.

“You, have a child…?”

“Pleasure to meet you, I’m Héctor’s secret love child!” Hetty boomed, taking the shaken Ceci by the hand and giving it a friendly, rough shake, almost bouncing the seamstress out of her shoes. ”I dunno why papi never takes me to work with him, I think he's ashamed of me.” Giving an exaggerated sniff. ”Oh Papi, WHY!”

“Hetty!” Héctor’s voice is more a startled/strangled squeak than anything else. Eyes wide, staring almost aghast at her-- before snapping around, as if fearing an all too familiar boot strike. As if Imelda were to materialize herself from nowhere.

Only to let out a sigh, before a little only somewhat miserable groan. Running a hand over his skull and peering at her through the gaps. Before taking a deep breath.

“Ceci-- this is Hetty. She’s…” he pauses for a moment, because technically there’s the minor issue of no paperwork-- and dios if there’s one of 

officer’s around. “She’s my ward… for the time being” 

“Ah…” Well now that made a bit more sense, but she didn't quite believe the child initially. It sounded just crazy enough to be true or false, a little clearance was appreciated. Taking a deep breath, tapping a bony finger in place on her face. “Right, well. Good, she can help too.”

Hetty gave a squeaky yay and light arm raise, despite not knowing WHAT that work actually could be. Still if sucked, well, teenagers were good at getting out of sucky work. Just make an excuse about going for a soda run or something. 

Héctor hears those words, he hears them from far away. As if a ghost stepped through his bones, or he’d been dropped in ice cold freezing water. Dios-- He couldn’t run, couldn’t turn around, already he was late enough.

Too much stalling. Hetty looked jittery excited, Hector just plain jittery, as a weary Ceci led them upstairs.

“Now come on Hector, I’ve been dying to see how this blue silk will look on you! I got the PERFECT shade of midnight, it’ll really bring out your markings.”

“I-- sí, sí” Héctor’s head uselessly nods, hardly hearing what Ceci’s saying, eyes focusing instead on the wear of the wood, the fine grain under the stain brush-- a hand on the railing as they go up-- feeling the chafe of splinters-- the white of the paint splashed--

And ahead the bright, bright-- almost as if she’s the source of light here.

It’s a rock that sinks into his ribcage. Imagining how she’ll _turn_ when she _sees._ Poisoned pink, angry, _disgusted_ eyes. He closes his and just-- stops for a moment to breathe. 

The made their way to the entrance of the workroom, Ceci striding in, this was her workspace after all, her second home, while Hetty and Héctor trepidly followed behind more slowly.

Hetty tilted her head upwards to the high glass ceilings, and then around. The walls were covered with designs, sketches, colour swatches pinned or taped to the stone. The room itself?

Work tables covered with snippings of dresses in progress. Fabric scissors, spools of rainbow thread, silk, velvet. Bolt of fabric, fake pearls, crystals, embroideries. A dressmaker dummy or two with objects hanging on them already, like half dressed dolls.

She stepped in slowly, stunned.

Héctor shifts awkwardly, waiting for Ceci’s snapped direction, and keeping an eye on Hetty, stilling, frozen when she only stares with wide, wide eyes. Not a sound, not a movement-- just taking in--

He sucks in a breath, a tight coil at the back, the base of his skull, hands seeking a grip on something, anything. Is that, bad? It’s probably bad and means--

“H-Hetty--”

“This...is...INCREDIBLE!!!”

Now he winces for a different reason. His stapes ringing with the last word and he almost instinctively reaches to at least keep Hetty from darting around and disrupting Ceci’s put aside displays and mannequins. 

“Heh, seems your little ward likes this sort of thing?” Ceci asked with an amused chuckle. This could work out very well indeed. Gathering a few tools, needle, silk.

“Alright, get into position Héctor, you know the drill.”

Hetty looked over her shoulder curiously at that. What position? … What DID Héctor do here?

“Sí! Of course!” Héctor plasters on a broad, only slightly tainted looking smile and strolls over, only stopping once he got there to rub at his arms, looking around at the host of dresses it looked like for today. “Soooo, which one to start?” 

With pins in her mouth “Mpphhthebmmonebythefffboa…”

“Of course!” Héctor nods his head, and looks around, soon identifying the blue, and almost too frilly for his comfort in that moment dress. He takes a nervous breath and almost hesitantly brushes it down, seems easy enough to--

He grimaces, there’s a ribbon tie and strings when it’s turned. At the back, always at the back-- well--

He takes a breath pulling it down, trying not to think of his audience as he changes. Ceci’s done this with him a million times but-- 

.

Having taken a seat on a patchwork chair, sitting on it backwards with her arms crossed on top of the head.

Staaarrrrring intently…

Héctor’s frowning as he finishes mostly pulling the dress on, the only annoyance--

“Who’s dumb decision was it to 

that?!” complaining about something inconsequential is less shaking than actually looking up to see-- 

. He takes a breath and brushes slightly down the material at his front, almost brushing it off because it’s not tightened. “Ceci--” 

“You-look-FABULOUS!”

Héctor’s head snaps around so fast he nearly sends it flying-- it’s the last thing he really expected. His mind screaming, searching for falsehood, the lie-- but no. There’s only wide, awe filled eyes--

She’s… not leaving?! She… doesn’t mind?

“Hector you look so pretty!” Did that answer his question. “Why didn't you tell me about this sooner...? I never thought you’d be shy!” genuinely sounding astonished.

She seemed to completely miss Héctor’s discomfort. Or that there was anything to consider wrong about this situation. She seemed to take it as easily as anything else, like this was normal behaviour.

And exciting!

Héctor only slightly shuffles. Not exactly bashful or anything just-- completely floored and not sure how he’s supposed to-- what is he supposed to-- of all the reactions that he expected, or considered-- this was the last thing he was expecting to happen at all.

As it is-- he pulls the dress back up slightly, as though to cover himself and can’t quite look at Hetty-- more to hide that lingering fear-- some part of his mind still fearing and being terrified-- just--

“Put this on!!”

Hector would feel a hat placed on his head, very decadent and haute couture, which temporarily shocked Hector out of his worries.

Now he was more confused?

Which grew as Hetty seemed to spring into action. Barely able to keep up with her. First grabbing the ends of the dress and slipping them through their holes, giving a pull(so tight and sudden it made him wheeze) and tying it off into a neat bow.

Then zipping off elsewhere, only to come back with streams of lace and frill.

“And this! And this and this and this and this-”She rattled off like a machine gun as she ran around him like a maypole, haphazardly adding streams.

Ceci didn't seem to appreciate this.

“Ay ya ya ya ya!” rushing forward to stop the girl quickly, that was very expensive! “StopstopstopstopSTOP!”She added just as hastily, grabbing the girl by her wrists to make SURE she stayed put.

“THAT is not how it is done!”

Héctor basically stands stiff as Hetty zips around like a lightning bolt. Hardly keeping up with anything other than the fact that he felt-- a bit like an arts and crafts project now-- So many extra bits and pieces-- and dios-- it’s something of an overload.

His eyes are wide, staring as Ceci just catches her--

“If you are going to help, you are going to do it right…”Ceci said in a voice that bore no arguments.

Her dresses were her art. They would not be sullied or compromised.

Removing some of the pieces, but keeping others and re arranging them in more suitable places. And instructing Hetty like a real assistant.

“Hold this here”

Now she seemed to listen, using her fingers to hold the lace in place, while Ceci slipped pins through to keep them where they needed to be sewn.

Héctor knows to remain still, only moving himself when Ceci indicates he should raise an arm, or shift, so she can more easily view the seams and structure of the dress. Moving only enough to keep it steady.

Really, he has no issue with this. Basically being the dress up doll, he knows Ceci and trusts her, although Hetty’s enthusiasm is-- 

. Not a bad thing, but it does make him nervous when she’s handed the sewing needle and Ceci is slowing down-- just enough to be a stern teacher.

“That's better, now, add this taffeta sash around the middle?”

Taking the large strip of fabric, Hetty looped in around the middle, then pulled it together, thankfully more gentle than the back this time. Ceci held it in place while she tied it off in a big bow at the front. It seemed to accentuate the dress nicely.

Okay, now to start sewing. When she was in that zone Ceci was usually like a machine, just stitching quickly and with precision, never pricking her fingers… Though, she sometimes pricked her model at times, that was a hazard for the living dummy.

Hetty was free to admire the gown itself without getting in the way, lifting the hem and inspecting in closely, starry eyed.

“You get to do THIS? You get to wear and help make pretty dresses?! Luckkkkyyyy….!”

“Ehhh, mostly a lot of standing around!” Héctor gives a small almost shrug with his head, wincing faintly as the needle occasionally would stick into his bones-- but he’s more than used to this, letting Ceci just do her thing.

And it’s not as if he’s a stranger to pain, compared to some of the-- incidents he’s had. What’s a needle prick?

“And Ceci hasn’t let me sew since-- the alebrije incident!” It’s not that he can’t sew it’s just-- well--

Rubbing the smooth, deep blue fabric to her cheek, it felt so nice. Silky, what a lovely sensation to one's skin. 

Letting a sigh of relief as if it had the same relaxing effect as a hot bath.

“You can really pull this off, I'm almost jealous…” Looking upwards, almost thoughtful.

“Let me do your makeup.”

Héctor lets out a small sigh, he might as well have spoken to thin air. But he can’t help but smile, eyes softening-- another young girl in his head-- in one ear, out the other and--

“Makeup?” 

Her eyes had a strange, intense expression to them, with a light seeming to dance around inside.

“I am so good at it, please! Lemme do this, and then we can take photos!” This had to happen.”PLEASE Senora, let me!”

“....Hmm…”seeming to think about it, halfway stopping through her sewing.”...It would help get a fuller picture of the end effect, if I should add something else or its just enough…”

Héctor’s eyes dart from one to the other, teeth sneaking to wear a little at his lips. Abruptly feeling a bit small in the dress, or something-- maybe a bit flustered and warm-- dios. Really? And--

Part of him remembers the 

time he had ‘help’ with makeup from a kid. Dios-- he really hoped she didn’t paint him like a clown-- or the dark, dark smudges like-- He squeezes his eyes shut, and just stops thinking. Just hopefully not too much pink-- he’s better in purple. 

Gentle brushes swept his hair out of place, taking in the boney face before her.

Hetty had a lot of practice in this area. And as much as she liked pink, she also knew how to make a person look their best. WHAT suited THEM.

As slow as precise in her work as an artist, there were necessary tools here on hand, for the models. 

With his eyes closed Hector would only feel the soft head of a brush start to dust his cheek bones.

It’s almost ticklish-- ghosting over his cheekbones and the rise of the edge of his sockets. But it doesn’t make him giggle as much as it compels him to hold his breath, and faintly inhale-- hitching a bit as if there’s a niggle in the back of his

nasal cavity--

The one thing he hates about those brushes and make up and dusting--

But it’s only a twitch really, and otherwise he’s still.

A gentle breath blew away the little dusty particles. The next part was a little easier, just a pointed spongy arrow, sweeping across the eye. Her tongue was poked out in concentration.

“Hold still…”

Had he a nose it would have faintly wrinkled, as it is, his brow faintly furrows and the edges of his sockets seem to twitch-- oh so faintly-- the dust settling and tickling in the gaps. 

“Okay, okay, look up, look up.” Finally something smooth slipping across the lips, gliding across without friction while tilting his chin, having gotten a stool to stand on. 

“Annnnd, done!” Looking satisfied, arms akimbo to her sides. “You can look now!”

Héctor blinks his eyes open and gives Hetty a small look. One that promises they’ll be having the 

of the leftovers with cabbage and slaw if this doesn’t fit. Before he takes a breath, steps down for a moment and--

“I look like I belong in the night sky!” he is-- pleasantly surprised. The deep indigo with blue, and darker purple-- his bones themselves almost like-- like the streaks of clouds and the glimpses of the moon. 

From the side of the mirror “Muy bonito!” Infact put him in a longer wig, she was confident people would mistake him for a pretty chica! Grinning cheekily “TOLD you I knew what I was doing. Queen of the night!”

“Hmm, that's a good name for this dress…”Ceci mused, who seemed pleased with the effect also.

“PICTURE TIME!! Where's a camera!” Hetty asked excitedly, looking around like a little girl who misplaced her toy.

Héctor’s hand self-consciously creeps to his wrist. Grasping solidly there, almost nervously. Wishing he had a tongue, lips feeling rather dry, a small tremble. He’s about to open his mouth, try and calm Hetty down-- or something when--

Footsteps.

Héctor feels like he snaps his head up, alert to that sound. A rush in his ribcage as the handle rustles, creaks and then turns. Who else is here today?! Anyone who had-- 

“Cecilia, is my new suit ready for the Performance this weekend?”

“Ah, I nearly forgot!” Such a busy day, was it never peaceful? And just when she was getting into this particular gown. Well, business was business, and a good business was swift and serving towards its customers.

“Ah, si, its just…! Where was it again… Uno memento!” She flustered out, nearly dropping several pins as she dusted her skirts and headed for the room that held finished work in packages.

Hetty had found a polaroid, but stopped at the disturbance. Her head now focusing on the door while idly holding it, seeing who would come in.

Héctor honestly feels like he’s holding his breath. Seeing that short figure, his hipster clothing, the long patchwork scarf-- almost ridiculous really-- but he hasn’t looked up yet. Too focused on what must be new sheet music or note sheets.

It’s a relief, for all of two more minutes before Gustavo looks up and instantly spots him. For a moment, Héctor has a thrill of amusement at the wide eyed shock, had he been moving he’s sure Gustavo would have stumbled, but only for a moment.

“Huh, you make a better Señorita than a Señor!” 

“Hola to you too!” 

Hetty watched them exchange words, indicating they already knew each other. Her eyes switched quietly between the two, figuring out the situation.

And unless she was mistaken, this guy was making fun of Hector.

And not in a banter way.

Héctor tilts his head back, almost glancing for Ceci-- and Gustavo looks around as well. Almost checking, she’s not in sight. Not going to just magically appear, and if there’s been a particular drunken idiot through in the past few days--

He winces just at the mere thought. Almost expecting to hear Ceci’s shriek already-- All while Gustavo has returned to eying him, and-- he’s not sure Gustavo’s noticed Hetty yet-- whether that’s good or-- or--

“Sooo how much you pay to hide this?” His eyes narrow back on Gustavo, the low, almost mocking whistle from the violinist making him clutch his wrist tighter-- pressing the bones almost to grinding point. “Or how much should I be paying t--”

“Who’s the midget?” Gustavo absolutely 

at the interruption, while Héctor stiffens up again, eyes darting to Hetty. Not sure whether he should scold her, or be relieved that Gustavo was interrupted. 

Hetty didn't look the least bit unsure of herself, infact, she was rather calm… In Fact there was a certain aura about her.

An aura that seemed to be “You got something to say?”.

Just from those first few words, she already got this creeping feeling in her bones… That this guy was a JERK. You could sometimes just tell. 

The kind of person who made fun of others for their self benefit.

Who could stand someone like that really?

“Ohhh, I get it, there was a secret eighth dwarf! You must be “Ugly”.”

“You get a kid?!” Héctor’s eyes snap back to Gustavo, who is giving Hetty a look like he’s trying to calculate something. Looking between the two of them. “Another like--”

“They were 

case!” Héctor cuts him off and Gustavo almost rolls his eyes.

“So it’s a stray then. Stray finding strays” 

“You wanna talk strays, how bout the stray rat that died on your face?

“Hetty!” it’s more strangled, than a scold. As though not sure whether he should be scolding, or laughing.

Okay she wasn't being polite, but, jerkass’s? Respect was a two way street. If someone started off insulting you and being nasty? They were obligated you be nice to them, turn the other cheek? While they dumped on you?

Rubbish. 

Hetty lived by the motto do unto others. If someone was a jerk, they deserved the same behaviour back.

“The rats are better than that!” Héctor somehow manages to find his voice, although he knows at least one of the owners of those alebrijes 

above a little ribbing. And really, the opening is right there. “Tavo isn’t interesting enough for that!”

Still Gustavo’s lowered his face, eyes almost darkly shadowed embarrassed-- tucked behind his scarf. And Héctor knows-- it’s a bit far, but after 

those years, and that damn nickname. Open up to the 

person once.

“At least I still get my money from my talent!” Gustavo speaks, puffing himself up. “I play my instrument. While it looks like you get played like an instrument, 

And he 

Seeing Hector’s reaction…

Okay. Admittedly, a TINY part of her felt like laughing, if she was totally honest, in her head. When she got the understanding, took a moment to think about it.

But obviously it hurt Hector a lot. Just take a look at him.

Her fingers clenched.

Why would anyone… Hector was the nicest person ever!! What kinda scummy…! Clearly this was a bullying situation.

Putting on a false, beaming smile.

“Is anyone thirsty? I'm sure there must be a coffee pot or something around here, lemme just.”

Swinging herself off from her seat, she strode over between them, humming to herself… And accidentally on PURPOSE stamping on Gustavo’s foot.

In high heels.

YOWCH.

Gustavo very valiantly only lets out a small yelp and pulls a pained face as Hetty strolls and stomps his foot. Héctor even winces and grits his teeth in echoes of the imagined pain. He’s… definitely had his feet stood on before. 

“A--and be sure to get some for Ceci to!” she probably needs the coffee. Oh “With extra milk”

“You sure do like kids with fangs--” Gustavo grits out.

“And you got shoved into a locked closet by four year olds last time I was babysitting.” 

Ceci luckily came back before things could get really hearted, a neatly tied brown package in arms.

“You're not harassing my workers again, are you Gustavo…?” Ceci asked in an accusing manner, eyes narrowed on the short man.

“Of course not!” And Héctor is relieved they’re not side by side, the fake chummy voice that Gustavo puts on. The straightening himself out, brushing himself down. 

“Glad to hear it. Because you KNOW how I feel about that.”Making it quite clear in her tone, and frankly eager to get him out of here and back to work. In any case, not upsetting her model especially.

Handing the package over sharply Gustavo again rolls his eyes, this time for real. Before he nods, and just turns and leaves. Not lingering any longer. Héctor isn’t sure it’s because of Ceci or-- Hetty

“Sooo are we finished with this dress? Or did you want me to spin?” or any of the other flow tests that they do.

“I think perhaps your little friend was onto a good idea, taking photos. Those would be very useful in a portfolio!! A living subject, showing the magnificence of my dresses, how they make a subject SHINE!” She said with some passion.”Nina, if you would please?”

Hetty grinned gleefully, hands on either side of the camera, and bringing it up to her face, flashing away.

“Strike it honey! The lens loves you!” Flash, click, click, flash, click-

“Ohh, think we can sell a couple 8 by 10 glossy’s on the side? That would rake it in!”

“Oh wonderful! Be sure to get my best side!” Héctor sighs and shakes his head before grinning. Being sure to let his golden tooth glint just faintly in the light and flash of the camera. More amused than anything else, and as long as it’s one of Ceci’s portfolios--

Or the fashion magazines approved by her.

Well it would all work out. And besides-- Hetty’s clearly teasing… he hopes.


	3. Handmade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presents!

Pulling the thread around the knitting needle, taught against the fabric, it is a shimmering gold colour that twinkled in the light. Working on the shape, until it became clear and that part was done. A snip of fabric scissors freed her needle for the next part.

Sitting on a barrel around back of one of the many houses of Shanty Town, where no one would bother her and the light was good, Hetty worked diligently on the jacket she was fixing up. Chipole mostly hung and fluttered around, but when they got bored, landed firmly on the girl's head.

“Chipole off.”

The batabrije only stubbornly flops more on her head, letting out small squeaks and almost floundering to see what she’s working on. Rather being a pest for that specific moment than anything else and demanding attention. 

Lifting a hand up towards the little bat, stroking with a single finger on the small of his back. He quivered with excitement and chittered with happiness.

“I know you are lonesome small one, but this is for Hector. You want your master to be happy, right?”

Chipole lets out a small huff and chuff at the reminder really, and nips faintly at her fingers, more testing, as if demanding those phalanges and fingers stayed there to pat their colourful purple-green-blue and gold shining patterned fur. Awkward paws tug a bit at her hair--

Halfway grooming, with a rough tongue over than only really served to tangle wild locks more. 

Lucky for Chipole, unlike most girls, she wasn't scared of bats or creepy crawly things. Infact Hector had introduced her to “chapulines”.

“Hmmm, whatcha think little buddy?” Lifting the shirt she was working on up into the light, trying to get his attention on the garment and maybe let her work more smoothly. “Do you think Hector will like it?”

Chipole leans forwards, nose twitching, long tail swishing out-- Peering at the cloth-- before letting out a long series of squeaks that are mostly confusion-- they do not understand why their pup would like it-- but it is pretty, and bright.

Finally they again resume their awkward grooming, trying to show approval. 

Hetty smiled at the approval. Picking up the needle she began to add more to her creation, able to put the bat out of her mind while she worked. He seemed distracted enough as long as he had her hair to play in.

A few more hours…

\-----

“Hetty! Hetty! Chipole!” His voice echos down the boardwalk walkways and out over the lapping water-- There’s a huff from the lanky figure, looking around. “It’s getting dark!” hands cup around his mouth as he calls again. 

He walks a bit further down the boardwalk, mindful of some of the looser boards, only pausing to ask some of the primos there--

“Have you--”

“No-- No laughing niñas or colourful alebrijes today, unless you count the orphanage children on their missions again”

“Sí, sí-- Hetty! Chipole!” 

“HOLA!” came cry from the rooftops.

And there she was, jumping across them with Chipole flying beside her, getting closer. All the ninos did it, played on the roofs, a common fave being “thieves and beggars”. After all what was going to happen if they fell NOW? Though it could be annoying for the adults, children scurrying like mice across their tin roofs.

Being made of bones also made children more daring than they ever would have been alive, Hetty spinning down a drainpipe onto the boardwalk itself. A brown paper package tied with string in one arm crook.

“Hetty!” Definitely doesn’t give Héctor any piece of mind, frantically spinning himself around, almost leaving his legs halfway behind to the clear amusement of their fellow nearly forgotten ‘family’ members watching. “Don’t-- Just--” he sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nasal cavity for a moment before looking at her.

More about being theatrical than anything else. They’re comfortable here, before he also laughs-- especially when an eager alebrije swoops right up to him-- almost sending him a step back(and off into the water, had he not caught himself-- dios-- he does NOT need to be lectured again). 

“Ay, ay, ay-- Nice to see you as well Chipole. You babysit her well enough?” he asks only semi seriously. “No evil Beecows snatching cookies today?” 

“I'm telling you it WAS them!” Nobody saw it so they couldn't prove otherwise. And Chipole would never squeal, not even to his pup, on her. Especially if she sneaked him pieces of said stolen cookies

Héctor sighs and shakes his head, for this-- she’s the winner. Nobody saw-- so what’s there to prove, while she grinned. She had gotten him on THAT one… But he had gotten her plenty of other times. 

He was the more skilled and experienced con artist after all.

Taking notice however she had a package-

“Oooh-- What’s that Hetty?” Héctor’s eyes snap to the package, an admirer? “Shoooould I tell Cheech we need to prepare again?”

“What present you get?” he tries to subtly peer around, see if he could determine what’s--

Playfully turning away and holding it to her chest with a teasing grin, even Chipole seemed to mimic her expression.

“It's a surprise. IT _MIGHT_ be a surprise for someone we know.” She hinted at it in a most obvious manner.

“Someone we know?” But given it was Hector even that might be too subtle. Who did they know and talk with much-- dios-- Chipole lets out a gleeful squeak at the same time. 

“SI. Someone with a straw hat, goofy smile and SNORES in the morning, though he says he doesn't.”

“That sounds like--” He’s...a little bit slow on the uptake-- who else has-- “Qué!?!” 

Grin “HEEE surprise!” she squealed along with the bat who hand landed on her shoulder, mimcing her cry, thrusting the package towards Hector.

It’s a wonder he doesn’t topple overboard, sliding backwards a bit. Hands grip and press the wrapped package tightly and he’s not-- he’s just frozen for a long moment. Eyes wide just staring at Hetty-- still turning over--

“M-m-me?!”

“Open it uppppp!” she squealed practically squirming out of herself, the suspense…!

As was the same for Chipole, beating their wings! Open open open open!

He trembles a bit looking down at it. Still processing--

“Open it Primo!”

“Look at how excited your Niña is--”

“Not technically my niña--” he distractedly responds, giving a quick look to the one other witness to the exchange, not really with any heart. By this point he really is all but doomed to have yet another chick following after him. Still his main focus is on the box--

Wrapped as best they probably could with what’s available in the Shanties, but more… 

“I-- It’s…” he almost doesn’t want to unwrap and ruin it… dios _he’s already--_

Looking back up however-

Her face.

Her earnest, worrisome face.

Electric almost and twitching, eyes wide, fingers clenched between each other. Waiting for his reaction but worrying at the same time, he would hate it, she had wasted her time. That she couldn't actually give anything back maybe she was just a burden.

He feels himself swallow, not that it really does anything, lacking a tongue to whet his lips or anything really-- but there’s still the ghost of a sensation as he looks down, turns over the present, trying to ignore that little voice that says he’s already ruined and doesn’t--

It’s with fumbling fingers he unwraps it, bones rattling from neves until he’s holding up--  _ something. _

It’s a  _ mess  _ of different fabrics and swatches, something with glitter and shimmer, that would likely make Ceci SCREAM at some of the worse(early he thinks really) sections of the stitching and how it looks  _ thrown together.  _ It’s horrible, it’s  _ wonderful-- _

“A  _ jacket--” _ He breathes… and for a long, long moment just holds like that. Taking it in. 

Her teeth bared in an excited grin, clenched hands near her chin as if keeping herself together while her eyes almost bulged outta there sockets.

A few weeks ago, she came across a old denim jacket thrown out, just hanging on the edge of a trashcan.

You’d be surprised what people threw away, really you would. Usually the ones with more money than sense. Food untouched from parties, shoes thrown away just cuz the toes were a little scuffed, books.

Apart from a little tear in the sleeve it was perfectly good. More money than sense.

Street Kids often went looking for things so she was used to making old things into something new. That's what she had done here. She had washed it and ironed it out as best she could(having to borrow one from a Primo which was falling to pieces as it was), stitched the tears, placed a fabric overlay on either sleeve, mismatching, and placed skull shaped buttons in place of the old ones of each cuff.

“I-Im not sure it’ll fit, your so thin…” she had to guess without giving away what she was up to at the time. For that matter maybe it was just novelty-

Héctor’s eyes are wide, focused but not focused really. His arms and lips begin to tremble a bit before he pulls it close and just looks off into the distance, not really having any words. Worse… shockingly-- his eyes… they feel moist, shining.

Turning with wide, wide, puppy eyes to Hetty.

He seemed happy, and that made her very happy…

The past few months, Hector had looked after her. Taking her in at all. Most wouldn't bother. I mean, it's not like he was obligated and they were practical strangers. But he had brought her into his home as easily as you would a puppy. And the responsibility of a kid was WAY bigger.

Living with Hector had been nice. Like a big brother, or a funny uncle. He didn't nag at her or constantly tell her to do things or be better like parents could be. But cared enough to worry about what actually happened to her.

Close to having a family, but none of the suffocation and overbearing.

“...Just… I wanted to do something for you.”

He feels like he’s going to fall over, fall down-- so, so overwhelmed--  _ when was the last time--  _ He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and just… presses the jacket to himself, it should be worn. He should pull it on, turn around, do the  _ dumb walk  _ and pose, his grin--

But he can’t--

“It’s… it’s--”  _ perfect, wonderful, amazing--  _ so many things he can’t even get one solid response. 

She beamed back, cheeks a reddish colour from pure happiness and relief, while Chipole chittered on her shoulder, lightly flapping his wings.

Héctor lets out a strangled kind of sound, almost dropping the jacket as he catches Hetty to wrap her in a hug to the amusement of their primo who barks out a cough of laughter at the sight. 

“Ay your just jealous you don't get a hug!” She laughed back.


	4. Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Hetty came to live in Shantytown.

Her heart(if she had one, still felt like it was there though even if physically it wasn't), fluttered in her chest as she was led through the arch gently. She could still shake her hand free and run if she wanted to anyway. Led down crumbling steps into a slum town, made up of slabs of wood and metal hastily hammered together into makeshift homes. Some on top of each other like duplexes, boardwalks surrounded by gushing water. Like some kind of play area with a million forts.

Long torches illuminated, reflected in the river below, and somewhere a sad, syrupy tune seemed to ooze out from an accordian.

There’s chatter and voices, people calling out in the night, camped around their crumbling homes, barrels lit with , the sound of glass bottles clinking together as hombres enjoyed a beer and guy talk. It was a relatively lazy day, what more did they have to do anyway, when you were nearly forgotten?

The small girl clung closer to the skeleton leading her as loud cries and laughter suddenly erupted, hiding herself behind him.

It really doesn’t take that long for people to notice them, cheerful calls of “Primo!” ringing out over the boardwalks, folks waving, and calling. Beaming skulls and broad waves, a couple of particularly eager skeletons practically toppling themselves over off the boardwalk and into the water, to laughter and returned waves.

“Ay! Ignacia! Celedonio!” Héctor laughs, scooping up a bottle and dodging past a couple of the more eager kids as they dart past laughing. “Tobías, qué onda?”

“Ariel! Oh? New friend?” 

“Who’s that, Primo?”

The little one’s eyes widened and she ducked further back behind Hector. Trying to hide, but, Hector was so skinny…

She didn't know what was wrong with herself. She was never shy! So why was she acting like this now?

“NEW PRIMA!” The younger kids come racing back, hopping over the boards, eager to meet the new person. Before Héctor can even really say anything or explain.

“Another one Héctor?” there’s a series of chuckles, and gleeful shriek from the kids. “You collecting strays now?”

“Oi, Alejo!” Héctor takes a breath, and hesitates-- looking down to Hetty, who looked surprised at the onslaught of squealing children eager to greet her. Lots of little bones, none could be older than 8-9, all happy bright eyed faces titled to look up at her while they bounced around. “This is... “ he pauses again for just a moment to watch as the kids spot Alejo-- some of them tugging at Hetty--

Their excited babble lost in the rapid voices, the smallest of the kids yelling the loudest, while Alejo starts laughing and Héctor feels himself heat up.

“Señor! Señor! Run! It’s Señor VILLAIN!” Already they look to be trying to involve her in their game, and Alejo tilts his head, as if waiting.

She stared open mouth slightly, all these tiny skeletons tugging on her dress, beaming with pure happiness… It made a faint feeling in her heart.

Remembering home. The orphanage. The little ones who did the same like she was there big sister.  _ “Hetty come play!” “I want HETTY to tie my shoes!” _

Bittersweet.

She knelt down slowly… And going slow, reached over… It seemed the little boy would let her, taking him into a very gentle hug.

The kids shriek again, the little boy clinging into her hug, and looking over at Alejo ‘Señor Villain’ with narrowed, childish judging eyes. Just daring him to interrupt.

“Hetty… Im Hetty…”She said, quiet but calmly. ”Hola ninos.”

“HOLA HETTY!” It seems like the whole group calls at once, chorus of those voice, and a rattle of bones, the kids scattering a bit further, letting some of the smaller ones step forwards and get their own pleas for snuggles.

Looks like that was her first mistake, now all of them want it. Although a couple of them go around to Héctor, tugging at his pants and giving him pleading looks.

“You got it?”

“I waaaant to be held!”

“SEÑOR VILLAIN I WANT TO HAVE A PRETTY DRESS LIKE PRIMA HETTY!”

She was stunned as they all flocked to her, her cheeks going a faint pink with surprise and, admittedly, a warm feeling. A faint happiness was growing over her. Those left swaddled around her, little hands tugging on her dress, wanting attention.

She lifted the little one up, cradling him in a hug… She’d forgotten how this felt. How nice. Soft fluffy hair, tiny little bodies you could squeeeeeze in half, warm, warm little bodies…

She smiled and hugged him just a little closer in her happiness.

“Senor Villain? Now who's that?” She asked the little crowd in a pantomimey way.

All of the kids as one(including Héctor, amusingly enough) pointed directly at Alejo who simply let a smile cross his face. Closed his eyes and placed hands behind his back.

“Señor Villain!” The kids cheered. “He’s not allowed to swipe Señor Musico Tío today!” 

Able to guess they meant Hector as they looked at him as they said that.

“AH well then, do you mind I borrow him for a little bit?” Smiling. “I think “Tio” wants to show me around. And I’ll keep him safe from Senor Villain!”Looking surprised, she gave a little whisper. “Im MAGIC you know, so no bad men can touch me.”

The little ones eyes widened and they all gave open mouthed gasps. The small one in her arms tugged lightly on her shoulder before asking “Is that TRUE?”

Grinning playfully, leaning in so there noses were closer. “Oh yes. I'm named after a witch you know, I can turn anyone who annoys me into toads and yeowling rats! Wooooooo…!”She gave a spooky noise to further convince the entranced children.

The kids all let out delighted shrieks again, clapping their hands, some of them scattering a bit in laughter. Faking ‘fear’ at her finger wriggling and ominous sounds.

In the background Alejo snaps his fingers, almost making Héctor startle.

“Ahh-- Outwitted again!” he says, voice suitably painted with a half growl of play. “But just you wait! One of these days!” he waves a finger and all the kids pull faces and laugh at him.

“Ah-- Sí” Héctor waves as Alejo stalks off. The kids mobilizing, laughing and waving.

“Don’t worry Prima Hetty! We’ll keep him away, so you can save your magic!” 

Chuckling she leant down and put the small boy she had been holding back on the ground, quickly ruffling a few little heads while she was at it.

“What good little kids you are! Big and brave, protecting your home.”

Some giggled, some beamed with pride, that was them! They were the protectors of Shantytown, and they had the slingshots and stones to prove it. And could see all from their outposts, in case any “invaders” came. Full of energy the small group ran off to play, knowing that for now anyway, Senor Villain could do no harm.

Hetty watched after them almost wistfully, but seemed lighter than when Hector had met her.

“Well, you just met Alejo, ‘Señor Villain’ and--” he pauses. “some of Los Angelitos.” he shakes his head, before plastering on a smile. “I’m sure you’ll meet the rest of them later” he gives a grin, “Maybe you’ll meet the Mystery Gang-- or understand them more than the rest of us--” he sighs.

Shaking his head for a moment.

“They… really need someone to show them how to help properly” He grins, leading them ahead. “Sooo over down that way, if you go far enough you’ll run into Officer Anxious house at the very edge of Marigold Station, please don’t go there on your own, and keep the younger kids from running off there, Los Desconocidos don’t enjoy unexpected company…” he shakes his head.

“Héctor! Primo!”

“Another one? Better not let Cheech see, he’s already mad!”

“You found where you put his minifridge yet?”

Hetty was only half listening as her gently lead her along, fingers wrapped loosely around hers and guiding her along the boardwalks like a pony. Her free hand clung to her shawl knot while her eyes, wide, but seeming far away, looked around. People sitting around barrel fires, groups of men playing cards, even fishing off the boards. Hector's words only floated in her ears.

“W-Wait wait wait- Uh…!” Tilting her head back round to look at him. “S-So lemme get this straight… So… A whole bunch of people are living here.” This was a bit more like a slum village, more organized than her and her street friends.” Annnnd…. You’re all related?”

They had called each other Primo and such. Where even all those little kids related to Hect-?! Well, he could've been dead a long time, it would make sense if they were descendants and, if he had a big family… But why did they call her Prima? Mixed up?

“Eeeh, not exactly--”

“Ohhh, niñita, it’s not like that--” One of those calling to them says, shaking his head. Always sad when-- “DIOS-- Ariel!”

“Most of us don’t come down here with our families--” the girl who jumps down from one of the roofs is followed by what seems to be a cow with a bee stinger and wings. “And well--”

“Nearly forgotten. Ariel, your brother is--”

“You seen los Angelitos? I want them to help me hide Tobías’ worst suits, he has a job interview and I will NOT--”

Hetty looked surprised as a young girl, who looked a lot spunkier than most, landed against the boardwalk. As nimbly as a cat, knew exactly what she was doing. Her hair was pulled back in a messy, thick ponytail, and a skirted overall. If she still had meat on her bones she’d be quite sinewy too, although she still gave off an aura of healthy glow and energy. 

She was half a head taller than Hetty which caught her attention/interest, and standing just beside her was a MONSTER of an albrejie(in size that was), with glittering wings and such a glow it was like a beacon.

“What is THAT…?!” Hetty choked out.

“That-- is a Beecows!” the girl says, one hand patting against the alebrijes side as it rather dead eyes stares at them. Héctor’s smile is almost strained as the girl’s attention is put on Hetty a squint and scan before she’s walking forwards and-- “And I’m an Ariel! Nice to meet you!” 

Hetty stared still, not quite taking her eyes off the beast, but briefly got her attention drawn back to Ariel as she took her hand to shake. And it was strong!

“N-Nice to me you to…!” She stuttered, growing more impressed with the impression of her strength.”...It's not gonna eat me is it? Or chew on my hair?” grabbing one long black tail and holding it away in case it got caught by the staring beast, and chewed it like cud.

She wasn't sure she trusted it. Dead eyes.

“Pffft, you don’t look like a kidnapper-- do you?” Ariel’s own stare becomes a bit fixed. Matching the looming alebrije for just a moment before it’s broken by laughter and a shake of the head. “Nahhhh, just avoid creeping around near out place at night and you’ll be fine. Nice seeing you, Toro! Bye Het!”

Ariel swings herself up and as if they were a much lighter animal, Beecows is away, leaving Héctor to give a small shudder and shake himself off.

“We’re… pretty sure Beecows isn’t dangerous, but just in case Hetty-- don’t try approaching alone”

“Well for what its worth Ariel seems nice” She smiled, so far the people she met seemed nice overall. Perhaps she had even made a friend, she’d like to talk to her again and find out more of her backstory. But right now there was a more pressing question.

“You mostly don't come down with your families? But why all the “Tios” and stuff?”She asked, clinging to an arm as they walked a little further.

“Ahh, like before, we said--” he pauses for a moment, “we’re the… nearly forgotten. We don’t--” and something squeezes in his ribcage, not allowing him to really look down at Hetty as he speaks. “--have families. Or they don’t want us anymore-- so we’re family to each other. Tío, tía-- all that”

“Oh... Well, thats a nice way to do it, I think.” She said simply but meaning it. Back when she was alive at the orphanage they were all practically brothers and sisters. And, just being related by blood didn't make family. Living in social services, the kids knew more than most would their age. Things children shouldn't have to experience. Drug addicted parents, physically abusive parents, parents that dumped their kids like unwanted newspapers. 

Just because you could have a kid it didn't make you a mother or father.

Hetty firmly believed family was who you made it, you COULD more or less pick them. 

“It’s one big happy family” Héctor’s smile is only the slightest bit strained at the edges. Because it’s true, the Shantytown is a big happy family, which doesn’t mean that they all get along perfectly, or there haven’t been… ‘family feuds’. Issues and problems, and folks like Cheech who would love to have their quiet and peace, without interruptions such as music being played at full volume at midnight--

He sighs. Pausing and thinking, which way, which--

“Héctor!”

Three elderly ladies were up ahead, gathered around a table with shots of tequila and playing cards. They waved Hector over eagerly.

“Where have you been hiding yourself all day Niño?”

“You never write, you never call, anyone would think you were avoiding us.” One abuela teased.

“Want us to deal you in? It's a good pot, Juana’s thrown in her dentures and gold thimble!”

“Uhhh” Héctor is almost more tempted than he should be, it offers an additional stall, time to plan and-- “I can’t” he shakes his head. Grins and offers a gesture indication. “I am under the escort of only the best right now”

“Escort-” The abuela stop halfway as all three noticed the little girl beside him… And reacted like six year old who had just discovered a kitten in their midsts.

“Aayyyyyy muy LINDO!”

Hetty’s eyes widened at the trio’s excitement, you would think she was a princess or something.

“Where did you get this from Nino?!”

“What a pequeño amor!”

“Whats your name dearie?”   
“Do you want a candy? I have a hard candy in my pocket!”

“Come closer sweetie let's have a look at you.”

Héctor lets out a chuckle despite himself, holding his hands up a little bit. Shaking his head, before clearing his throat slightly.

“Uh, we still have to finish--”

They weren't paying too much attention however as Hetty tentatively made her way over, them fussing over her like she was a little doll. The abuelas had a soft spot especially for little girls, all the more for soft, frilly looking ones like Hetty. It reminded them of their own lifetimes, little girls in dresses and hair bows. They asked her all sorts of questions and she seemed happy enough to answer. They weren't being patronizing like some.

“If you're trying to avoid running into Cheech, you’ll have no luck nino” The eldest abuela grinned, shooting Hector a look.

“I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now.”

“What shoes?” Héctor smiles for a moment right back. But he knew what they meant.

The abuela took her fan and whapped him on the head with it. “Ccch! Act cocky now, Cheech is looking to dig you a second grave.”

“Marguerite! But yeah, you're dead, though, you are already dead. You’re double dead Hector.” the final grinned, shuffling her cards as she got comfortable in her seat. “Don't worry, wherever you end up we’ll pray for you.”

“Hah, hah-- I’m not that obvious” Héctor says with a wave of his hands, looking around for a brief moment. As if Cheech would magically. “Anyway, we have to keep going. Need to show Hetty the last few parts of Shantytown, and then-- home…” 

The eldest abuela leant on her elbow against the table smirking, her deck of cards held loosely in one hand. “You do that dear. And don't be a stranger! You come to our next game, and bring your little friend? IF you get home in one piece that is.” At this all three lightly laughed.

What did they mean exactly, as they waved them goodbye while Hector led her across the boardwalk to another location… And why did he suddenly look so tense, and why did his smile look so forced, she thought.

“Why so jumpy señor Hector?” she asked.

“I’m not!” He snaps back much too much like a petulant child before cringing. Eyes keeping watch as they pass the shacks. Counting them, watching for the more ramshackle, rundown, crumbling parts of the walkways… This area needs some rebuilding,  _ again _ . “Just… got to keep an eye for loose boarding… and-- just be quiet-- people here are a bit more… private” it’s not a lie, just a sliiight stretch of the truth.

This area mostly for those who want to be more alone, with signs up telling people to go away, stay out.  _ This means you Héctor  _ on at least one shack.

The damp wooden boards creaked and whined under each step. The fact they were bone thankfully helped some, under normal human weight they would likely be taking a cold bath below already.

“...You’re hiding something, I can tell-”

“HÊCTOR!” he jumps, freezing at the thundering slam of a door. One of the shacks ahead of them. And a short, very angry seeming man stalking his way over to them. “You better have an explanation for yourself!”

Hetty jumped too, but looked stunned instead of Hector, who looked very nervous and had his fingers lightly dug into her shoulders. A wheedling sorta grin, flashing that single gold tooth, and equally transparent swindling words tumbling out. “CHEECH! I, didn't think you were here, how you doing-”

Chech’s arms cross even as he comes closer. Eyes not even really looking at the child with Héctor, completely focused on the lanky skeleton. “You trying to sneak past, before explaining what you did to my Minifridge and the VAN?”

“Ah, that… That, funny story about that!”He laughed out, turning in place as Cheech followed, using Hetty as a buffer between them. “Yor-you-you’re gonna laugh-”’

“Unless I'm mistaken, I heard rumours.” Cheech started with an angry tone, taking a heavy thwack forward towards the skeleton as his cane hit the bridge boards.

Hector smartly backed away, looking greasy white and like he’d fall to pieces. 

“C-Cheech whatever you heard-”

“That MY van was seen in an incident at the Department of Family--”

“T-Theres a million v-v--vans all across the LOTD---Stupid kids, stupid teenagers breaking into cars-”

“‘ECTOR!”

“Ah, okay so that, that was a lie, I apologize for it! Heh, funny thing, you would think a magic flower bridge could hold a van…!-Cheech-Cheech put that down!”

“COME HERE!! Come here you bug brained twit…!!” With some difficulty Cheech pursued him with some energy while Hector avoided him with equal amounts, dancing around Hetty who just stood there dumbfounded as one squat grumpy skeleton hobbled after the nervous, jumpy as a mexican flea of a scruff, with a rolled up newspaper in hand aiming to rap him with it. In circles they ran around her like a maypole, her eyes following like marbles as they rolled in her head. Pleas and apologies from Hector, curses and threats from Cheech.

“I'm getting mixed impressions from you Hector. Some people want to hug you others want to rip you asunder.” Hetty quipped sarcastically and seeming amused.

Héctor lets out another whine at the quip, pulling his hat down again, almost dramatically before taking a breath, waving his hands and perking himself up. A forced cheer and kind of sheepish air. 

“Look-- Cheech, I know it seems bad but uhh--” 

“I didn't even WANT to lend you that van nino!! But as always you TALKED me into something estupido, and I let you!” Cheech grumbled, annoyed with himself and Hector.”HOW long have I known you, and yet I still get suckered in, EVERY-SINGLE-TIME…!”

Hector wilted and fiddled with his hat in his hand, twisting the material around as guilt etched away, picking away inside and making him feel bad. Like a puppy who was being severely scolded. 

And it was only now was Cheech realising Hector was not alone.

“...AGAIN?” Cheech sighed tiredly, too exhausted at this point to truly rant. “Hector you cant bring home every waif and stray you come across, I've told you before.”

Héctor again fidget with his hat, almost awkwardly offering a grin, and the slightest shift of his shoulders as if ‘what can you do’. Looking to Hetty and plopping his head back on before coughing , and folding his hands.

“Well, you see-- There was an incident and--”

“You can barely look after yourself. What possesses you to bring in animals and hurt kittens and, children…!”

“For the record, Misttterrr….Cheech?” Trying to remember if that was the name Hector use, her hands motioning in circles confusingly. “I-DON'T actually know why Senor Scarecrow here brought me here. Much less about staying…”She said honestly enough. If that was the case she wasn't even sure she wanted to, much less he could be fully trusted. She wasnt stupid.

Chicharron’s eyes narrow on Héctor who looks somewhat torn on how he should react to Hetty’s particular way or explanation. He makes a small stuttering series of false starts while Chicharron taps the cane on the wood slates, even knowing each other it’s--

“I-I--  _ there were angry men!” _ he waves his hands almost frantically “And she was  _ alone--  _ sleeping in the  _ warehouses _ ” 

“He, DID admittedly save my life. And my face. I really don't think they would've had qualms over hitting a little girl.” Hands to her cheeks at the thought, she could've been sporting a set of eye shadow compliments of a black eye or two, if not worse if not for Hector interloping.

“She cant be more than twelve-”

“I’m THIRTEEN actually…”

“See, she is so small and little and helpless! Cheech, you know what can happen to children on streets. To little  _ girls  _ on the street.” Hector answered in an unusually serious tone. 

Any homeless child was in danger, but young women, all the more. It’s a rule that they all well know, and it’s not really just men to worry about, but-- Cheech lets out a long breath, raising one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, peering at them and finally dropping.

“Of course. Of course. Just promise--”

“Oh don’t worry Cheech!” Héctor straightens himself right up, “She won’t be any problem, we’ll organise with the Tías arrangements, she’ll have her own space-- won’t be in the bungalow for long!”

“Ughhh, I'm sharing again?” She playfully groaned. “Ah well, I'm used to it. But if anyone makes gross sounds in the night I’m kicking them out, I mean it.”

Héctor lets out an awkward chuckle, guiding Hetty past Cheech with this grin. The assurance that it would only be for a short while, not permanent still hanging as they enter the… admittedly dirty and cluttered bungalow. With a broad gesture he dramatically “Welcome to our abode” after a moment he picks his way through, clearing out one of the hammocks and carefully clearing the area. “Y-you can have mine for tonight I'll… find somewhere”

Making her way through, idly shoving things aside with her foot to avoid tripping… Well, it wasn't anything grand… But no worse than anywhere else either. And, it didn't seem there were cucarachas either. Anywhere free of that was a relief.

“Oh you don’t have to-”   
“Ah ah! Señorita you are a lady, a lady does not sleep on dusty wooden floors.” Removing his hat in a most polite manner, held to his chest, smiling and with a wave of the arm, directing her towards the hammock. “Please.”

She snorted out a giggle at his fairytale coachman act, what a sweet silly ham. 

Making her way over, the hammock swing a little as it wasn't easy to get into, but managed, it swaying back and forth with her in it like a boat on waves before coming to a stop.

“You sure you don't mind?”

“For such a cause? Not at all” he assures, “Besides, hardwood is hardly the worst place for a night”

“Besides” he grunted as he grabbed a few things. They did not currently have a spare hammock, they would fix that tomorrow. But always plenty of almohadas and mantas, Plumping a few into a spot, a blanket on the ground underneath, making a sort of makeshift camping spot, and then tossing one or two to Hetty. “It's not everyday we get a “Princesa!” visiting!” he grinned.

That just made her laugh harder. He must be a real charmer with the ladies, what a honey dripper!

Feeling lighter than she had today… For some time really, they worked quietly as they got into bed. Hetty laid up, eyes to the ceiling, hands resting on her tummy… Thinking.

What a strange turn of events today had been… People here seemed nice. They didn't seem like they would hurt her, or steal her shoes… Tonight she would stay here. After that… She didn't know. 

Hector seemed to want her to stay, but whether she did or not, she was not sure yet.

….For tonight, she would rather not think. Just sleep.

“...Buenos noches señor.” She said, quitely and unsure, but feeling she should say that much at least for everything he had done.

“Buenas noches, niña” Héctor says, finding one of the blankets and dropping it over her before moving to find his own spot to settle. 


	5. Sick Days

Funny how it worked, being dead n all? You could literally go to pieces, disassemble yourself, and you felt no pain?... BUT you could still get a bust to the chops and it would pack a wallop.

Despite not needing to eat, food still tasted delicious. Despite being a skeleton, you still got tired and needed to sleep(which again could be seen as a luxury). 

It was weird how it couldn't quite seem to make its mind up HOW it worked.

And despite being dead? You could still get ill.

The odd sneeze could be heard coming from Héctor’s shack along with coughing, one member of the household quite sick indeed.

Shivering in place, her very breath almost chattering, Hetty laid in the hammock. Wrapped up in bundles of blankets, the other residents kind enough to donate to help the small one, especially the elder women. 

Patchy blankets, but still warming.

Her face had a red glow from a fever, bones clacking and she shivered, feeling too hot and too cold at the same time. 

It had-- honestly been a long time since Héctor cared for someone sick. And he was reacting about as well as he had back then. Racing around the shack with some flailing, frantically asking himself what Hetty might need. Blankets, pillows, did they have any tequila stored away in the corners that hadn’t been already drunk? 

Or soup! Surely he had a few cans of soup left over from when he tried to bribe an alebrije to help him cross. Searching the cupboards for few moments before just picking up the blanket pile and coming back to Hetty and pausing in the doorway.

“I-- Uh! I’ll be making soup!” 

Hetty could barely make out the words, however simple they were. Her head hit, it felt heavy and stuffed with cotton, just blearily looking up at the ceiling.

As Hector clattered around looking for tins and pots, Hetty slowly, slowly started to move.

She gave a little wriggle at first, her arms like lead, then slid upright on the hammock, the swaddled cocoon of blankets slipping down. 

Have to get up, have to get--up…

Grabbing her shoes, fingers slipping around the heels to hold, but almost collapsing as her legs suddenly gave way against the floor.

It’s the clatter of bones to the wooden floor that brings Héctor running again. Whirling back into the room, still with a ladle in hand and searching for--

“Dios mio! Hetty-- ¿Estás bien?” He sets the ladle down and kneels by her. “D-do you need help back into the hammock?”

“I-I need-Ineed-”Her body swayed backwards, Hector reaching out to support her with a bony hand, keeping her upright at least.”I-I need to go…”she mumbled out, her eyes glassy and half lidded, clearly not thinking straight. She slipped one shoe on, with some difficulty, then the other, it half off. 

Getting dressed sloppily, she reached out towards the side, to grab her shawl. The pink fabric slipped off onto the ground with a slight tug from the peg it hung from.

“Need to go to work, to work…”

“No, no, no!” Héctor hushes her, letting out a small click with his teeth, and gently pulling her back, frowning. “Hetty, it’s your vacation day, remember, sí?”

“Izzit…?”she asked, slurred and dreamily. With the state she was in, you could tell her little pink mice lived on the moon, and she would believe it. 

“It is!” he says, firm and assured, letting her use him as something of a walking stick for what little stumbling she could do. “Now come on-- let’s get you set for a 

. Rest, pillow and blanket forts--” 

She still didn't quite stop, folding the shawl as it needed to, but when it came to tying the knot, her fingers slipped clumsily, like the material was made of plastic.

“B--But I havta go work. I--I live” Her head dipped downwards for a second before tilting it back up, it very difficult to stay steady.”I live here too…! I have to do my part.”

Héctor had taken her in, always gave her things before himself if there was only one, food, water, a spare pillow. It could be difficult to get these things, living in Shantytown, they had to scrounge around like homeless people. So it told her so much when he gave her anything halfway decent he could have for himself.

She tried to return all this kindness by at least earning some money. It made life a LITTLE easier when they needed something.

“Ayyy-- but not today-- We all have our days off niña--” he lets one eye close, almost teasing. “I mean I don’t babysit or help out with Ceci’s shows every day now do I?” well, that was debatable-- but--

“I-Im okay, I can reach the plaza…”She insisted as she pushed herself off the ground, her legs as shaky as a baby deer learning to walk.”I can make it…”

“Sí, make it like a gatita!” he watches her on wobbly legs with a small amused shake of the head.

She managed to push herself up, using Héctor’s shoulders for support with a grunt, and then leaned against the wall. 

Even that was a strain though, gasping and panting, her cheek and hand pressed against the wall, beads of sweat pouring down.

She might get SOMEWHERE but she would not get very far. And not before keeling over with exhaustion. Possibly hurting herself! If she tried walking across the boards around Shantytown she’d end up taking a cold bath in the murky surrounding waters.

Héctor is right behind her, rather bemuse with her swaying steps. With a sigh, he knows that he won’t win just with words. Not when she’s set on her goal and path.

So there’s only one other choice left to him. So he practically trots up around and beside her. Before gently picking her up and walking her back to the hammock and pile of pillows and blankets there. Flopping down practically with her.

“Oh nooo! The magnets have us!”

Her head already spinning, she was confused all the more when she found herself back in the hammock.

With Hector hugging her.

How did she get here?

“What magnets?”she asked, her addled brain taking it literal.

“The bed magnets!” Héctor says it in the most solemn tone her can manage. “We’ll have to just wait here until they release us” he shakes his head, holding her only loosely, but steadily. Keeping her secure so she wouldn’t just fall on the ground as a messy pile of bones. 

Pouting “Well that sucks! When did we get thooosee..?”Her speech slightly slurred from the fever.

The sickness had taken most of the fight out of her. And, the hammock was alluring, comfortable, drawing her small body in to come lay on it. And having someone to cuddle up to, made that cosy warm feeling double.

Her head lolled and rolled against Hector’s chest, nuzzling in like a sleepy baby.

“Ahhh, sí, sí-- we’ll just have to remain here and suffer the comfort of these blankets won’t we?” he gently teases, letting her loll herself over him. Relax and snuggle while he gently begins to rock the hammock a bit-- making it swing. 

“Guessss. That, sounds kinda nice actually…” she mumbled out. She was so tired and achey, that allure of warm, softness, and a friend, all seemed extremely comforting.

She was a very ill little one, she needed to lay down and rest. Let someone look after her.

She gently flinched as she felt fingers, eyes closed so not able to see, gently pull her pink shawl closer, tucking it around her front for extra warmth.

Héctor almost absently begins to hum, one hand smoothing through her hair, leg pushing and easing off the ground. Swinging the hammock. Swinging them-- And he pulls at the blankets, wrapping them around and beginning to hum louder.

No particular tune, just a steady, soothing and relaxing hum. 

That felt better. Not too hot, and that strange sensation of being so hot yet freezing, went away too. She stopped shivering, her body sighing in pleasure from the warmth of the soft blankets. The gentle sway, pleasant melody hummed gently in her ear.

“...Lo siento Hector.”

“I-I wanted to, but I couldn't--…” She was talking about going dancing again. He had done so much for her, that was the only way she could repay him. Every peso helped. She felt like she had let him down.

“Calmarse-- calmarse-- hush… I know-- I know--” he soothes gently, hushing her, continuing to hum and sway. 

She felt like crying a little, mostly from her exhausted state. Hector was so NICE.

She snuggled in further, her trusted friend, just relaxing like he wanted her to, eyes closed but awake. Just, being a buena niña, quiet and at ease.

There’s a light ding from the other room and Héctor carefully squirms his way clear. Leaving Hetty curled up, barely a visible mop of hair and bones that slightly peers out of the blanket pile-- he’ll be gone for barely a couple of minutes. 

Quick slide into the other room, a bowl, a spoon and back hopefully before Hetty got too lonely, or started stirring again, back into determination to ‘work’.

“Chilli chicken alright, chamaca?”

“Extra chilli’s in it...?”She asked with sparkling, hopeful eyes that she opened.

“Sí! Extra chilli!” he grins before carefully maneouvering himself back into the pile, mindful not to spill a drop, letting Hetty squirm into a better position before offering her the spoon, best let her at least 

first.

She opened wide and happily accepted the first. Even if you didn't need to eat in the land of the dead, it was still one of life's pleasures. Flavour, texture, taste. Slipping down her throat into her non existent tummy, making her feel better. She opened her mouth like a little bird, more please.

He lets out a laugh at her eagerness, not mocking but amused. And at how they must look surrounded by blankets.

“So it’s good?” he grins, not pausing beyond that question to keep spoon feeding her. 

“Yummy!” She replied in a little girl voice, making him laugh at her cuteness. But he doesn’t falter-- continuing until the spoon scrapes against the empty bottom of the bowl and he puts both aside to let Hetty just snuggle back down. Returning to the relaxing position from earlier.

Swaying gently in the hammock and-- humming. 

\------

“Gracias Chico!” Hetty called outside from the window of the shack, a small cloth bag in her hands delivered by a fellow townie. Looking back over her shoulder as she stepped down however, her eyes widened and she ran forward with her hands out.”HECTOR! Ay you big silly, you're supposed to stay in bed!”

“Not my bed--” Héctor mumbles into the floor where he’s lying. Only somewhat miserable, his bones shaking and eyes half glazed over, flush with the illness that Hetty had just the week before. “It’s your bed-- it’s not-- not--”

Lifting him up under the armpits.”Si si, it IS your bed querido.”She said gently. She had her fair share of caring from the smaller ones when she had been alive at the orphanage. Especially fussy little boys. Pulling him up, it was not too easy as he was much taller than her, but managing.

To be exact it was both there bed, but right now, it was Héctor’s.

Sadly though he had cared for her dure out her cold, a short while later he caught the same illness. It was going all through the land of the dead, like a winter cold.

Managing to get his back in, head against the pillow, she then gently pushed his legs up into the hammock, them hanging out askew.

“Now you have to sleep. Make the most of it! How often do you get to just lay down and do nothing?”

“Ngn” Héctor lets out a miserable groan as he’s pushed back into the hammock, legs dangling and large baleful eyes looking right at Hetty, with a touch of a pout, but he doesn’t struggle just lolls his head back and stares up. “Too much nothing-- nothing means thinking about--” his sentence dangles there for a moment.

Eyes glazing and hands twitching.

“Too much thinking” 

“Oh, well, you know I’ll stay with you!” She always had fun with Héctor, even when he was sick. It was too bad they didn't have a tv or something, but there were other ways to play.

They had to make due when they couldn't afford things like normal children. They learnt how to spend time.

Placing a hand to his forehead, pushing back his fluffy hair gently.”Mmm… It's a little down, that's a good thing! It should be down even more tomorrow, you’ll feel more human I'm sure.” Turning around, reaching down to grab the delivery. ”Anywaaayyy, I have something for you!”

“Is Cheech still maaad?” Héctor slurs a bit, blinking up. “I didn-- didn’t mean to lose the vannn” not that he really could have done much better, hardly knew how to drive beyond 

. But wondering about Cheech made him feel a little, tiny bit less miserable than the reflection of--

Her small bones against his skull echoes and aches of ages ago. A stupid boy who had gone swimming in the river in the middle of Winter and ended up sick-- two of them really. Dios-- he missed them--

“Bahhhh Neto you should listen next time-- the sisters told you…” told them. He blinks, something else finally slipping through. “Chapulines?” he sounds croaky, but hopeful. 

“!!Ayyy you are psychic I knew it!! We're taking you to the betting hall one day to make a fortune!” She grinned cheekily, one hand holding a plastic bag of fried crickets like a carnival would have roasted peanuts, and in the other, two oranges.”And pudding for after!”

Héctor lets out a weak cheer, attempting to wriggle himself up and out, to grasp for his favourite treat, only to flop back, slightly more tangled in the hammock and blinking confused.

“Neto! They tied me in!” He lets out a small whine, eyes darting to the side looking for someone who’s not even there, before balefully giving Hetty the biggest puppy eyed look he can. “The sisters tied me in!”

Giggling and rolling her eyes, she dealt with it calmly. “Now now small one, you're not tied in, see?” Gently untangling the sweaty mess of blankets, she’d have to wash those later. She freed his arms and held them up lightly. “See, you can move!” wiggling them lightly like they were puppet toys, making them flap about and clap.

“See, don't panic.”Stroking his hair back gently, not wanting him to get upset. He was confused. The fever was making it hard to think.”Don't worry pollito, I'm here, si? Now, you just munch your crickets annnnnd, I’ll read to you, k?”She suggested with a beaming smile.

He blinks, before beaming up at Hetty and moving himself into a slightly better position.

“Sí! Gracias-- Look Neto-- Hetty’s-- Het will read fer us.” he waves one arm almost tipping himself back over and off the hammock before slumping back down. “She brought-- brought tangerines… maybe from the stall-- guess they’re not mad about the--” he falls off again, tilting his head and nodding along. “‘M sorry. Which book?”


End file.
